


Dripping Memories

by aintgotenoughcoffee



Category: Palaye Royale (Band)
Genre: Amnesia, Gen, Temporary Amnesia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-18
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-11-21 12:35:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18142265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aintgotenoughcoffee/pseuds/aintgotenoughcoffee
Summary: They say the past is the past. But what happens when there is no past to perceive? Only a hollow ache of memories that cease to be recalled, the phantom presence of a foreign life written in the pages of a book he couldn’t open.Cover Artby yours truly





	1. Accidents Happen

Emerson was quite fond of walks.

He took them whenever he could. Bidding a short farewell to his family, he'd vanish into the busy streets, slipping into his own little world, scouring for sights yet to see. They traveled often, and when you visit a new city every day there was always something new to see. He’d shoot fleeting glances at the shop windows and search through the back alleys, yearning for a taste of adventure.

Even so, his walks usually didn’t take long; and yet when night fell he still hadn’t returned home.

His family, a small and odd one, went about their business as usual, but as the veil of night drew across the sky and the sun slipped into its somber sleep, concerns grew and spirits dimmed. Anxiety crept in the corners of the room as the clock struck the witching hour, and as time passed, tension built.

Remington sat by the window, tapping on his knee. “Emerson should be here by now, he knows we have to leave for tonight,” he muttered, throwing a glance outside.

His eyelids were growing heavy, but he still dialed Em’s number for the umpteenth time. The call rang for a few seconds and ended as expected, no answer from him. Deep down Remington was starting to feel anxious, even Sebastian could sense his growing worries.

His phone buzzed against his leg and he took it out in anticipation. It was from an unknown number but he assumed it could be Emerson calling from someone else’s phone.

“Em?” he said hopefully, but to his surprise an unfamiliar voice answered on the other side of the line, asking for him.

“Yes, I am,” he said, taken aback. “Why…?”

He listened. “I… yeah I am… what’s the matter?” his voice grew worried. “Why, did something happen?”

His brow furrowed as they continued. “Wait, why is he there? What happened?” he pressed, a frantic touch to his tone.

Their reply made his hand falter, barely holding up his phone as his mind ran off to possible scenarios. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“I'll… I’ll come by,” he mumbled, bidding a short farewell and ended the call, all too aware of the others’ stares on his back.

Austin was the first to speak up. “What’s happened? Who was it?”

Sebastian fingered his bracelets, unable to make eye contact with anyone. “It was a hospital, they called me to say… Emerson’s was admitted there. He’s in a coma.”

Remington froze, the realization of what Sebastian said setting in hard. He wiped his mouth, trying to push down the emotion that started bubbling up to the surface. Silence fell upon the room, their previous attempts at keeping a positive outlook on Emerson’s tardiness forgotten.

When you try to stay on the bright side of a situation and believe it, it only shakes your foundations even more when the unspeakable worst-case scenario does happen.


	2. Worst Case Scenario

It felt serene, the only sound around them the machines beeping and the chatter outside the sliding door. The bright lights and stainless white walls were reminiscent of a common hospital, although it didn’t smell of sickness or death like it’s often said. It sat under a welcoming guise, but the atmosphere was stained with hopelessness.

The cold morning air passed through the open window, chilling to the bone. The small family sat scattered around the hospital waiting room, while the brothers rested by Emerson’s bed, since only the patient’s family were allowed to stay with them. Most of them had already dozed off, and the others were halfway there. They had been there for hours since they’d rushed to the hospital in the early night.

A nurse rolled into the room to refill his IV, winding one of the packs and unscrewing the connected tubes. She readied the bag of antibiotics, when Emerson’s eyes started to blink open. “Good morning.”

He tilted his head to the side, eyes drawn to her voice. They steadily swept over the rest of his surroundings. “….Morning.” Emerson took note of the other people in the room, starting to sit up, at a loss of his whereabouts. “Sorry, whe…”

The commotion had caused the others to stir, awake and at his bed in a split second.

“Hey, Em, you gave us a scare there.” Remington gave him a shaky grin, leaning on the bed frame.

“You okay? How’re you feeling?” Sebastian interjected, by his side.

Emerson looked over their faces. “I’m… I’m fine….”

“Says the guy that just woke up from a coma,” Sebastian laughed. Remington’s mouth twitched.

The nurse intervened. “I’m sorry, but could I ask you to leave the room? Now that he’s conscious a doctor should check up on him. So if you could…”

“Course, yeah,” Remington moved his hand to rest on Em’s shoulder, but he moved away, giving him a puzzled glance. He furrowed his brow. “Something wrong?”

Emerson eyed them. “No, but… I’m sorry, do I know you?”

Remington’s breath hitched. Sebastian’s heart dropped, sick to the stomach. He shook his head in denial, hoping that he was playing with them. “Dude, not funny.”

Emerson started shaking his head. “I-“

The nurse, who had assessed the situation, cut him off.“I’m sorry, but I have to insist that you leave immediately, he needs attention from personnel right now.” They were distressed and more reluctant to leave now but she managed to usher the two of them out. It was no use anyway, they already understood what had happened.

The worst case scenario.

 

* * *

 

Emerson watched as the others left the room, not moving from his bed. Questions bubbled to the surface as he waited, the nurse continuing her task and started to gather up. Finally, he gathered the courage to speak up. “Sorry, but, where am I?”

“Bellevue Hospital Center,” she stated.

“What am I doing here?” he asked, sitting up.

The nurse held him back. “A doctors gonna come by shortly to check up on you, you can ask him anything you want then,” she smiled.

“Ah… okay,” he settled back into the bed, fingering the bedspread.

The doctor arrived a few minutes after she left the room, nodding to Emerson as he shut the sliding door behind him.

“Hello, I’m Doctor Chase,” he greeted, taking a seat. “I’m gonna ask you some follow-up questions, if that’s okay?”

“Yeah that’s, that’s fine,” Emerson obliged.

“Alright,” he flipped open his notebook, pen ready. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine. Tired, I guess.”

“Do you have any medical history with comas?” Dr. Chase questioned.

“Uhh no, I don’t think so, no.”

“Mhmm. What is your full name?”

“My name’s-,“ he started, but when he reached where his name should’ve been he stopped, his mind drew a blank.

The doctor saw his struggle and decided to continue. “Can you tell me the date of your birth?”

He searched his memory for it but he couldn’t find anything. Why couldn’t he recall such basic facts? “I don’t… I don’t know,” he forced out. It was like trying to remember what happened on your 8th birthday. You know it happened, but you can’t place the smallest detail even if you wanted to.

“Do you have any family? Know where you’re from?” he persisted.

“”I don’t… know,” he repeated, feeling pathetic that he sounded like a broken record. He couldn’t understand, he didn’t feel different in any way.

Dr. Chase nodded solemnly and noted something, studying his writing.

Thoughts lingered in Emerson’s mind, but he remembered his original question. “Sorry, can I ask why I’m here?”

Dr. Chase looked up from his notes. “You were brought in for a concussion from a blow to the head, when you came in you were already in a comatose state. At first we weren’t sure why,” he added, “until we tested your blood. Found enough tranquilizer to knock a horse unconscious.”

Emerson gave him a him a wide-eyed look. “That’s a lot,” he commented.

“Yeah,” the doctor laughed. “Speaking of, could I take a sample of your blood for a test?”

“Oh uh, yeah, of course.” He held out his arm as the doctor found a pulse and disinfected the spot to draw some blood. Emerson fidgeted with the equipment attached to his arm, careful not to disturb it. “Can I ask another question?”

The doctor waved. “Shoot.”

“Who were the people from before? The ones that were staying here.”

Dr. Chase looked at him, pursing his lips, then returned his attention to the syringe. “Your family,” he said matter-of-fact, drawing the last of the blood, and extracted the needle from his arm, placing it in the tray.

“Oh…”

Emerson stared off into space, lost in thought.

The doctor disinfected the spot once again and peeled off his rubber gloves, standing up from the chair. He took the file and notebook, ready to leave.

“Can I ask another question?” Emerson said before he turned.

“Uh, sure,” he said, settling back down.

“Who were the people from before? The ones that were staying here.”

Dr. Chase was nonplussed. “You already asked that… don’t you remember?”

Emerson seemed to space out, but he managed to fix his eyes on the doctor. “Did I?”

The doctor paused, surveying him, and stood up once again, making a new note. “All in all you seem pretty healthy, but you might have a few more checkups over the day, okay?”

He wavered. “Oh… okay.”

Bidding the doctor a good day, he sunk into the covers of the hospital bed, fatigue setting into his body. Left alone to his own bearings, the silence surrounded him. He gazed out the window of his room, over the view of an unfamiliar city. Only one thought nagged at the corner of his mind.

 

Who is he?


End file.
